Snowflake
by Phoenyx
Summary: Wufei watching the snow fall and reflecting on the Gundam pilots' lives.


Snow is falling outside my window. I never noticed it until now... I guess I never found the time. I was caught up in all the so-called "more important" aspects of life. Now, how anything could be more important than watching frozen droplets of rain fall past my bedroom window is beyond me, but hey.   
  
I watch the flakes of white drift slowly down to the icy ground just below my window. They swirl before they reach it, caught up in a small tornado of wind. Now that I think about it, the swirling and endless spinning kind of reminds me of our lives. Me, the Gundam pilots... and all the shit we have to go through. Not that I'm complaining about the shit, no. Now why would I go and do a thing like that? It's just that sometimes it seems like too much. For us. Were 15, some 16... and here we are fighting the war of our lives; the five of us, alone. Sure, we look tough, act tough, fight tough. But we're still teenagers. We have the same right to live our lives as anyone else does.  
  
First, there's Heero. With his personality, it's hard for someone to even label him as human. People, even most of the Gundam pilots themselves call him the perfect soldier. They claim that he has no emotions, that he makes no mistakes and cares about nothing but the mission. To me, they're all lies.   
  
Heero could be the perfect soldier, I suppose, compared to many others. But he is still very much human. He has emotions, many of them, strong ones too; he only chooses not to show or act on them. Sometimes he will, but on very rare occasions. I believe only Trowa has had the pleasure of seeing him laugh. Sure, the rest of us have seen him smirk, or even smile... but we know that he doesn't mean it. I, personally, would be shocked to the death if I heard so much as a chuckle escape his lips, but he has emotions. I'm sure of it.  
  
As for making mistakes, Heero, again, is only human. He's made mistakes, of course. Many of them. Most are very little, hardly noticeable, but he makes them. He is human, and it is human nature to make mistakes. Everyone does it. I do it. If he made any less mistakes, people would start to label him as a robot. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't be overly fond of that...  
  
Lastly. It is claimed by many, including some of us, that Heero cares for nothing but his mission. Talk about shallow. Heero cares for many things. Although he may not show it, he cares for life, his own and others. He cares for us, the Gundam pilots, though he'd die before admitting it. When he went to "rescue" Duo from OZ, he could have easily killed him to save himself the trouble of lugging the wounded baka around. He knew the weight would slow him down, and that his chances of escaping would severely diminish. Yet, did he pull the trigger? No. He took it upon himself to carry Duo, support him all the way to their Gundams. And evidently to some, this is an obvious sign that Heero cares for nothing. Please, note my sarcasm.  
  
And then there's... ah yes, Duo. Gundam pilot 02. Wasn't I just talking about him? Yes, I believe I was. Well, you can always count on him to bring laughter to our dull lives, I can tell you that much. Duo is the definition of happiness itself.   
  
But there's a deeper side to him. On the outside, on the mask he wears, Duo is a fun loving, cheery, smiling baka, clumsy and stupid and annoyingly loud. This is what we see him as every day; nothing can bring him down. Of course, that's where we're wrong. There's a dark side to pilot 02. Something more, something deep. He may be the most fucked up out of us all. There's pools of pain hidden behind his eyes, and quite often you can see it; even when he is smiling. You can see the hurt and sorrow when I yell at him (which I quite often regret doing), or when Heero threatens him, or when Trowa attempts to ignore him. I know why he does it, why he is so loud and obnoxious. He does it to block out the screams.  
  
That's a painful thought, isn't it? Every scream, every plea from each innocent we kill is stuck in our minds like glue. The images of death and destruction playing over and over in our minds like a broken record. Duo tries to block it out, block out the endless screaming within his mind by screaming himself. And I don't blame him at all. We all have our ways of dealing, coping with the mental and physical pain. That is his tactic.  
  
Who comes next... Trowa. The Silencer, some call him. Or, the Silenced. Whichever you prefer. Either way, you're close to right. I can't really judge Trowa; I don't know him well enough. I respect him, though. I respect him a lot. He always has something vaguely helpful to say: Ok, not always... in fact, he hardly says anything at all. But when he does, it's worth it. He either points out the obvious things we hadn't noticed before or the subtle, almost transparent things that we never would've gotten without him. His intelligence certainly comes in handy at times. Some call him autistic, because he talks so little; though I don't know why. There's nothing wrong with him at all, he just happens to be the quietest out of all of us. I don't blame him for that. Again, as I said before, we all have our ways of coping.  
  
He's the acrobat in the group. The graceful, docile cat, walking on tight ropes both physically and mentally. What a concept, huh? Mental tight ropes. Sure, he has them. Most of us do. Those life threatening, mind bending decisions between two desperate choices, both having severe consequences. It's something we're all familiar with; him, probably, most of all. Yet he deals with it surprisingly well. Another thing I respect him for.  
  
I can probably relate to Trowa the most. I don't know why, really, but... I guess we have the strongest ties. If... any of us had ties, that is. We don't tend to risk it. It's a deep comprehension; a silent agreement, I suppose, that we have. We understand one another, and we leave it at that.   
  
Ah, right. Quatre. Heh, what a guy. Some call him gay. I don't get that; does being overly compassionate and caring automatically make you gay? Not in my book. Then again, I'm not the smartest of people. Quat's not gay. Maybe bisexual, but I (we) wouldn't hold that against him. Hey, its something you gotta expect when you're living with four other guys for a number of years.  
  
Quatre's an empath. It makes me feel bad for him a lot, having to feel what every one else is feeling. It's gotta suck, really. Having to deal with anyone else's emotions and mine? I'd go insane. Literally. Watch me start raving about the Austrian monkeys creating a new world order. I half expect Quatre to break too, but he won't. He's stronger than he looks.  
  
Quat is understanding and caring, yet he's also naïve. He doesn't really get why people do the things they do, or why they act a certain way. When you think about it, though, you can see his point of veiw. A lot of the things people do are pointless.  
  
And then there's me. ...Enough said.  
  
So, it's the five of us. Fighting blindly through a world of chaos and rage, going by hunches and mere whims to save our asses. It's a scary thought... five teenagers: a mechanical soldier, a screaming comedian, a silenced acrobat, a naïve empath, and I. Us against life, caught in the crossfire of two worlds and a battle of their beliefs. Just like the snow... white, shimmering flakes drawn together by a simple gust of wind. 


End file.
